


Nine of Swords

by PostcardsfromTheoryland



Series: April Tarot Card Prompts [25]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hospitals, Nightmares, Post-Season/Series 07, vague descriptions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23853970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PostcardsfromTheoryland/pseuds/PostcardsfromTheoryland
Summary: Nine of swords: Fear, stress, nightmaresTurns out Keith has some not-so-nice reactions to heavy-duty painkillers
Relationships: Keith & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: April Tarot Card Prompts [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686346
Comments: 12
Kudos: 83





	Nine of Swords

It had started innocently enough, one of those vague moments when Keith was frightened by something, but not frightened enough for it to be a pressing concern. Like he’d forgotten to study for a test, or hadn’t worn the right clothing to a diplomatic event. But then it starts to sharpen and take on a more sinister turn.

He doesn’t know how he got here, he doesn’t know what’s happened to lead up to this point, he just knows he’s scared and he wants to go some imagined idea of home.

Everything is a mess. There are hulking figures on the edges of his vision that he thinks were once buildings, now reduced to skeletal structures, glassless windows staring at him like the eyes of a skull. The lions are broken and destroyed around him, reduced to rubble and ash, and he can smell the burnt metal but there’s another acrid scent underneath it, and that’s when he notices them.

The bodies.

He sees Pidge first, broken and small, eyes gazing unblinkingly at the sky, blood in streaks around her mouth. Then the others start to come into focus: Hunk, Lance, Allura, Coran. There’s so much blood, their limbs twisted into unnatural positions and bits of them…missing. Keith wants to throw up but the smoke around him is choking him, cutting off his air – except no, it’s not the smoke that’s choking him, it’s Shiro, his metal hand wrapped around Keith’s throat. 

“You did this,” Shiro growls. “This is _your fault_.” It’s the clone, he knows it is, he’s never heard Shiro this cold and unforgiving, but it doesn’t make it any less terrifying. “I should have abandoned you, like your parents did.”

It isn’t true, Keith thinks, because Krolia said she cared about him, she just left him because of the war, but then Krolia is standing behind Shiro, sneering at him in contempt.

“Worthless,” she says.

“Broken,” Shiro says.

Keith grips weakly at the fingers around his neck, getting in just enough air to start screaming.

* * *

It’s late, but Shiro has just finally managed to get to bed. With the paladins all healing, it’s fallen to him to lead the Coalition efforts, which means meetings upon meetings upon meetings – Garrison officers, Galra, other aliens, the rest of Earth’s population, all trying to work together and not sure how to do it yet. And then there’s all the paperwork involved in being the captain of the largest spaceship Earth has ever built, keeping track of all the staff they have on board, not to mention the civilians that have unofficially started making _The Atlas_ home; he’s fairly certain Colleen is starting a garden in one of the hangars.

Needless to say, Shiro is very much ready to go to sleep, which is why he’s a little frustrated at Kosmo’s sudden appearance in his quarters. The wolf is smart, but he’s also large and occasionally gets in the way of doctors, so while Keith recovers he’s taken to following Shiro and Krolia around: mostly whichever one of them seems to be doing something more interesting and/or having to do with food. And Shiro loves Kosmo, really does, but right now he just wants to go to bed.

“Not now, buddy,” he grumbles, shoving at Kosmo’s snout where it’s pressing into his face. “It’s sleep time, okay?” But Kosmo is insistent, pawing at the bedsheets and then growling when Shiro doesn’t respond again, and he’s never heard the wolf do this before. He’s just about to get up and figure out what Kosmo wants when the wolf makes the decision for him, dumping him onto the floor of a different room with a flash of sparks. In the dim moonlight seeping in through the window, he recognizes the flowers on the table: pretty things Romelle had picked up for Keith from the pop-up alien market, and this does not bode well.

Something is wrong, and Shiro is already kicking himself for ignoring Kosmo as long as he did. Keith is still in the bed, at least (he wouldn’t put it past Keith to sneak out of the hospital in the middle of the night), but he’s whimpering and gasping for breath. Shiro’s first assumption is that Keith is hurting, but he’s got his eyes squeezed shut and his head is thrashing side-to-side.

Nightmare.

Keith’s still in a lot of pain, and his Galra physiology means he needs a higher dosage of drugs to combat it, but with the pain relief comes the other side effects, and the drugs in addition to his concussion have made Keith hazy and forgetful even when he’s awake and aware. He can’t imagine the havoc they’re causing on his mind right now, not to mention his body: he’s in danger of ripping the IV out from the way his hands have started flailing and the heart monitor is beeping out a shrill warning.

One of the nurses rushes in then, but she hovers in the doorway upon seeing Shiro in the room. “We need to wake him up, or at least calm him down, but I think he’d do better with a familiar face.”

Shiro nods, crouching down by the head of the bed. “It’s ok, Keith, it’s alright. You’re safe.” But Keith just keens brokenly in response. Every part of Shiro is itching to soothe and comfort, but he knows pulling Keith out of the nightmare by sound alone is a much better option than startling him awake with touch. “We’re at the Garrison,” he continues, hoping if he talks for long enough that Keith will eventually latch on to his voice. “You and the other paladins were hurt but you’re all ok, you’re all healing. Things are probably confusing for you because you’re on some really good drugs right now, but I promise everything is ok. Your mom and Kolivan made it in a few days ago, and yesterday you heard me gave another speech about togetherness and community during this time and accused me of plagiarizing the Tele-Tubbies.” He could sit here for hours and tell Keith all about his day, about the meetings he’s had, but this doesn’t seem to be working. If anything, it’s making it worse.

Kosmo disappears and Shiro is half-expecting him to return with Krolia in tow, but he flashes back into existence only moments later, gripping Shiro’s tablet gently in his teeth. Shiro gets the hint and brings up the music app, jabbing blindly at his “calm and soothing” playlist and ending up with some of the weird operatic Altean music Coran had shown him.

That finally seems to work. Keith is still crying, gripping the bedclothes, but the frightened whimpers start to taper off. Shiro and the nurse breathe a sigh of relief as the heart monitor signals a slower, steadier rhythm, and the nurse backs out of the room with a reminder to call her if they need anything.

Now that Keith is calmer, Kosmo sneaks his way in between Keith and Shiro, putting his front paws up onto the bed and nudging his snout underneath Keith’s hand. Keith starts scratching at his fur in reflex, eyes cracking open to take in his surroundings.

Shiro thinks they’re in the clear now, but Keith gasps and backs away from Shiro the moment he notices him in the room, breaths taking on a panicked, unsteady edge.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, it’s just me.”

“You’re actually,” Keith gasps, “you’re not the…?” And Shiro thinks he understands a bit of what Keith’s nightmare was about.

“No, no, it’s me. Real Shiro, new arm, white hair, see?”

“Sorry,” Keith murmurs brokenly, but Shiro just shakes his head. The scars from Keith’s fight with the clone are still pretty fresh, and with the addition of the drugs and the confusion and the pain, it’s no wonder his mind took him there.

“Everyone is safe,” Shiro tells him again. “You were all pretty beat up from the Robeast attack, but the doctors say everyone is healing well. Do you remember?”

“Weird quintessence vampire robot blew up,” Keith mutters, and Shiro supposes that’s a decent enough summary of events.

“Are you alright?”

Keith nods, looking like he’s already halfway back to sleep, so Shiro squeezes his shoulder and turns away to let him get some well-deserved, hopefully peaceful, rest.

“Shiro?” It’s the smallest, most timid voice he thinks he’s ever heard from Keith.

“What do you need?”

“Would you…I’ve been having a lot of nightmares. Most of them aren’t this bad, but it’s…can you stay?”

And Shiro can’t begrudge him this, even if he’s really not looking forward to the way his back is going to hurt after a night in the chair in the corner of Keith’s room. He makes to pull the chair closer to Keith’s bed, but Kosmo, always so in-tune with Keith’s thoughts stops, him and shoves him bodily toward the bed.

“The morning nurse already doesn’t like me, you’re going to get me into trouble,” Shiro grumbles even as he slides carefully onto the bed, mindful of the wires and Keith’s still-healing injuries. The bed is really not big enough for two people, and _especially_ not for two people and a space wolf as Kosmo teleports up and flops down on their legs, but he can feel the tension already leaking out of Keith’s limbs. It takes them a few moments to get situated in the limited space, but once Keith has turned gingerly onto his side, his back to Shiro’s front and using Shiro’s left arm as a pillow, it doesn’t feel quite so claustrophobic. Shiro reaches over to get to the tablet on the bedside table (the benefits of floating Altean prosthetics) and switches the music back on. Nice and low, unobtrusive: a barely there reminder to Keith, to both of them, really, that they’ve made it through, that they can stop and rest and heal.

“Do you know the plot for this one?” Keith slurs, barely intelligible – Shiro had definitely thought Keith was already asleep.

“Can’t say I do,” he whispers back.

“It’s about this weird owl thing that goes through life trying to find this one particular woman because he needs a lock of her hair to complete a spell that lets him see the world in only shades of orange.” And Shiro’s honestly not sure if that’s the drugs talking or if Altean opera is just that bizarre.

“Does the owl ever find the woman?” Shiro is humoring him, but Keith is also limp and lax in his arms, sinking deeper into sleep with each word, and the further away he can get Keith’s thoughts from his nightmare, the better.

“Dunno. Hunk, Lance, Pidge and I watched it at the Castle one night, early on, but we turned it into a drinking game and were all too smashed to remember the ending.”

“Keith.”

“No limit on the drinking age in space,” Keith mumbles. “Besides, Pidge started it.”

“Go to sleep,” Shiro says fondly, wondering if that was the reason all four of them had once shown up to morning training half-dead, Hunk managing to throw up before they’d even begun. He sort of wanted to corner Pidge tomorrow and ask her – preferably in front of her parents.

“Shiro? Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me for this. Though if the nurse or your mother yell at me in the morning, I’m blaming Kosmo.” The wolf huffs at him from the end of the bed but Keith doesn’t respond, finally asleep. Shiro hopes Keith’s dreams are pleasant and peaceful for the rest of the night, but he’ll be right here if they’re not, ready to protect Keith from any threats, real or imaginary.

**Author's Note:**

> Is it a symptom of me writing fic at 4 in the morning that like 80% of these end with someone falling asleep?
> 
> ....maybe.


End file.
